high gloss glass
a face stares back
reflected in opaque black
a dark twin corrupted
in a surface constructed
with razor sharp fragility
the ability to stare into stark
reality
tainted by the opposite
of day

Claim my attention
pull it close and use it hard
don't wonder why I have no words
there's only breath to gasp
I love you

__________________"True glory consists in doing what deserves to be written; in writing what deserves to be read."- Pliny the Elder"Words have the power to both destroy and heal. When words are both true and kind, they can change our world."- The Budda"I'll never be a poet"- The Harry"You are not the whim of a careless creator, experimenting in the laboratory of life... you were made with a purpose"."-Og Mandino
well buttered

The bed is queen-sized,
a touch larger than
absolutely necessary;
but, even when our
schedules force me to
be the only physical
presence under the sheets,
I find it barely
sufficient to hold all
there is to
us.

The bed is queen-sized,
a touch larger than
absolutely necessary;
but, even when our
schedules force me to
be the only physical
presence under the sheets,
I find it barely
sufficient to hold all
there is to
us.

fierce wild hair black as night
unkempt, untamed
she lay in a rubbish pile
home for the while
had a lid to keep out rain
food thrown in every day
eyes as dark as obsidian
shard of glass to cut
any who thought to take
away her abode

creak of lid opening
not rubbish going in but
three of them
caught her napping
years of honed senses
had her up in seconds,
with spit and hissing
she at them in earnest
a furnace heat of rage and death
if they would only let her arm free
they would bleed
oh how she would make them pay

they held her tight rape and murder
in their mind.....................

thighs on thighs she rides
slide on shaft and haft
into liquid grace a prayer as work roughened hands
rasp
a gasp, a note
from her snow white throat
the splendour that's rendered
hair framed face in sweat salted skin
rouge bloom of sin on my tastebuds
carry me into the light of centralized thought
it all dissapears into a fragment
on her knees praying to some unknown deity

shallow pants pull you in
hold you tight
a second stretched shattering moment
spasms wracked
stacked in pool of melt and quiver
deliver a depth charge blast
explosion of rapture
where the centre
of the universe
vibrates as one
a big bang moment
before life blooms

fierce wild hair black as night
unkempt, untamed
she lay in a rubbish pile
home for the while
had a lid to keep out rain
food thrown in every day
eyes as dark as obsidian
shard of glass to cut
any who thought to take
away her abode

creak of lid opening
not rubbish going in but
three of them
caught her napping
years of honed senses
had her up in seconds,
with spit and hissing
she at them in earnest
a furnace heat of rage and death
if they would only let her arm free
they would bleed
oh how she would make them pay

they held her tight rape and murder
in their mind.....................

he arrived, fists and feet
screams that seemed to come from miles away
her head rocked by a brick
dizzy blood poured
cries silenced by sharp cracks
smell of copper cloys
the hand in her hair now limp
slightly tangled

He bends down
scoops her in his arms
a sheltered cradle
for a lost babe
vicious he kicks the prone mans nose
crunch of cartilage groan of dulled pain

an unkempt wild man
she has found a savior
her life stream trickles down
his hand
it mingles with the blood
he bled for her

he arrived, fists and feet
screams that seemed to come from miles away
her head rocked by a brick
dizzy blood poured
cries silenced by sharp cracks
smell of copper cloys
the hand in her hair now limp
slightly tangled

He bends down
scoops her in his arms
a sheltered cradle
for a lost babe
vicious he kicks the prone mans nose
crunch of cartilage groan of dulled pain

an unkempt wild man
she has found a savior
her life stream trickles down
his hand
it mingles with the blood
he bled for her

A terrible tale, Tod. But well told, it kept my attention, and it has that particular touch of yours that gives it such strength. Question: have you ever tried writing prose? I feel you'd do well with it, too...

he arrived, fists and feet
screams that seemed to come from miles away
her head rocked by a brick
dizzy blood poured
cries silenced by sharp cracks
smell of copper cloys
the hand in her hair now limp
slightly tangled

He bends down
scoops her in his arms
a sheltered cradle
for a lost babe
vicious he kicks the prone mans nose
crunch of cartilage groan of dulled pain

an unkempt wild man
she has found a savior
her life stream trickles down
his hand
it mingles with the blood
he bled for her

his arms feel of steel
She jostles against his chest head lulled
sounds distort in snapshot freeze frame
yes, no, I
nothing,
what, where
dark,
hospital bound
sirens pound against delicate membranes
She glimpses her hero
chiseled roman nose, broken once or twice
his eyes
brilliant blue
ringed by a darker shade
eyes of a predator
his frame in constant motion
muscles tense, relax
postured danger
he smiles down
she is struck with a second brick
before healing sleep gently sways
her into silence and it feels of steel
and shrinks into blue

An existence of serial sacrifices
once grown to maturity and beyond
selfish in need fulfilment; even
compromise with another life
to give away a little part
of your stuff, your heart,
and your thoughts to become
a greater whole; especially
when you've given it your all.

A flutter, groan of choking sound
gasp of breath at five am
heart smashes my rib cage
an epileptic fit inside my chest
numbers double through water
grog-
gy sight try to wake
for the sake of fight or flight
blinks only serve to smear
the blurs and paint in double vision
harsh rasp of tounge a throat that feels burned
by steam
as dreams of blood
flood into rest, crash over the crest
of sleep
leave you lying there with skin
leaking salty tears that stain,
acrid stench that claims the nostrils
years after you though such things
were only for children

saw him last night
his plight of life evident in
his stride, shoulders slumped in shuffle steps
his diet of coffee and cigarettes,
half the man he used to be
bulging muscles melted into sagging skin
a resigned air to his blank look stare
repeating stories as if to convince himself
that he is over it, but shit man
he is stuck in stasis after she carved
chunks off the bone and served them back to him
in snap lock containers of rotten emotion
to have the seals broken and the stench of betrayal
crush his soul
the weight of two worlds his burden
and atlas complains holding but one
his eyes were mirth filled and his handshake vibrant
laughter would boom out as we faced maiming
or worse, skull fracture by steel toed boot
didn't dampen his mood
as we skulled jacks and tequila his head swollen
by ego but more so the bruises
in years gone past we were kindred spirits on
thus organic spaceship of uncertainty

Now I dont recognize his eyes, his pride
evaporated into dust
I sigh and want to bring him back
from the brink
but some journeys we must make on our own

What cannot be put into words,
and what isn't communicated, or
read and acknowledged,
does not exist; isn't that how it goes?
Soulless art, disconnected or
soulful nonsense, too raw
There
Another null set bravely sets out
into the world.